


Familiar Exchange

by thepsychicclam



Category: Royal Pains
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hank and Evan have always been taking care of each, ever since they were little kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar Exchange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [philote_auctor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/philote_auctor/gifts).



When Evan was a little boy, he used to get nightmares. He would scream and cry, and Hank would run in from the next room and shake him awake. Hank would always say things like _it was only a dream, Evan_ and _those things aren’t real_. Sometimes he’d go into Evan’s closet to make sure that there really were no monsters in there or check under the bed for the Boogey Man. Then he’d get Evan a glass of water and tell him stories about grand adventures in outer space and on space ships until Evan fell asleep.

 

This lasted until Evan was 14.

 

*

 

When Evan was 17, Hank came home and found him smoking weed with a few friends.

 

“Are you out of your mind?” Hank yelled. Evan tried to be serious, but everything was so fucking _funny_, so he just laughed. The friends sitting on the couch laughed then, too, and Hank grabbed them by the collar one by one and literally pushed them out of the door. Evan was still laughing.

 

“Will you stop laughing?” Hank yelled. He started cleaning up the mess of chips, Cokes, and candy littered around the basement. “Do you have any idea what an idiotic thing you have done?”

 

After he cleaned up, Hank made Evan sit on the couch with him. Evan tried to stifle his giggles, but it took forty-five minutes to stop. Hank only let him leave the couch to go to the bathroom. At some point, Evan tried to get Hank to talk about the philosophical implications of _Star Trek_ and _The Simpsons,_ but Hank wouldn’t play, so Evan ended up talking to himself until he fell asleep.

 

When he woke up, Hank was staring at him, waiting, a small bag of pot on the table in front of him.

 

Evan had never felt so disappointed in himself.

 

*

 

When Hank was in med school, he used to call home a few times a week to check on Evan. Evan usually didn’t talk much – what was there to say, really? Another job, another boring class, another girl he dated once. Nothing really changed much.

 

Instead, he let Hank talk. He didn’t always know what Hank was talking about, but he loved how excited Hank got when he talked about medicine. Different –itises and dissecting cadavers and all-night study groups with other people who got excited about these things. It made Evan miss him. It made Evan wish his life was a little bit more exciting.

 

It made Evan never want to tell Hank how awful things actually were at home.

 

*

 

When Evan finally graduated from college, it was one of the happiest days of his life. He’d fucked around – literally and metaphorically – but somehow he did okay. He even ended up graduating with honors. It wasn’t Summa Cum Laude from some Ivy League school like Hank, but it was something. He sat in the seat, feeling ridiculous in his cap and gown, and played with the honor chords around his neck.

 

He turned around and scanned the crowd of amorphous faces. Where was his family? Finally, after fifteen minutes of searching, he found Hank’s face near the front of the crowd. Evan waved, even though the Dean was calling out the A names, and Hank waved back. On both sides of him were strangers. Evan knew the absence of his father shouldn’t have bothered him, but it hurt.

 

When Evan walked across the stage, he waved at Hank again as Hank snapped a picture. Then after the graduation, he ran up to Hank and jumped on him.

 

“I did it!”

 

“You did!” Hank picked up one side of the honor chords and rolled it between his fingers. “Seems you may be a bit of a brain, too.”

 

“I get it from my big brother,” Evan said.

 

Hank beamed.

 

*

 

When Evan got arrested the first time, the last person he wanted to call was Hank. But it was 3 a.m., he was somewhere in New Jersey, and he wasn’t sure where his shirt was. He tried to call a few of his friends, but he got nothing but voicemails. After some strategic pleading (and thank _god_ he’d sobered up by this point), he got the guards to let him make just one more phone call.

 

“Hello?” Hank said, voice heavy with sleep.

 

“Hey brother!” Evan said brightly.

 

“Evan? Are you okay? It’s 3 a.m.”

 

“Um…well, I’m physically okay, if that’s what you mean.”

 

“What is it, Evan?”

 

“I’m in jail.”

 

“Shit. Where?”

 

“New Jersey.”

 

“Shit.” Hank sighed. “You know I’m supposed to be at the hospital at 6?”

 

“I did not know that.”

 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can someone give me directions?”

 

“Hold on.” Evan started to hand the phone to the guard, but then took it back. “And Hank?”

 

“What?”

 

“Thanks.”

 

*

 

When Hank got engaged, Evan took him out to celebrate. Hank resisted, but Evan wouldn’t take no for an answer.

 

“You only get engaged once, bro!”

 

The next thing Hank knew, they were at some sleazy strip club.

 

“I am not going in there,” Hank said, but Evan pulled him in anyway. The girls were naked, the beer was cheap, and the whole place screamed _Evan_ and _Not Hank._

 

“I’m buying you a shot,” Evan announced, and called a waitress wearing pasties and a g-string over.

 

“No.”

 

“Yes. Two tequila shots, please?” Evan said, giving the waitress his best grin. Hank rolled his eyes. When the shots were delivered, it took Evan a solid fifteen minutes to convince Hank to take the shot. At that point, Hank was tired of the whole scene and drank it so maybe everything wouldn’t seem so awful.

 

After four shots, Hank was surprised to find himself intrigued by the woman named Blondie who could crush a beer can between her breasts.

 

“She’s had work done,” Hank slurred to Evan after she left.

 

“Hank, you are concentrating on the wrong thing.”

 

*

 

When Hank got to the Hamptons, he wasn’t happy. A weekend. A weekend away was all that he wanted. He had lost his job, his girl, his respect…everything. Evan wanted to party, to take his mind off of everything, but Hank just wanted to be left alone.

 

The second evening there, Hank was sitting on the porch of the hotel, watching the traffic on the road below, when Evan came outside.

 

“I challenge you,” Evan said, slamming a deck of cards down on the patio table.

 

“Huh?” Hank said, shaking off his daze.

 

“I challenge you,” Evan said again, waiting.

 

“You can’t be serious.”

 

“I challenge you.”

 

Hank sighed. “I accept your challenge.”

 

“It’s time for gin.”

 

“Rummy,” Hank finished the familiar exchange.

 

“All right!” Evan disappeared back into the hotel room, then returned with an armful of snacks.

 

“Are you serious?” Hank asked. “What are we, 13?”

 

“Sure,” Evan said. “Look, you need to have some fun. For some reason, girls and booze aren’t fun to you. This was my only other alternative.” Evan arranged the junk food on the table. “We have Yoo-Hoo, fruit snacks, Cool Ranch Doritos, and Bagel Bites. Did I forget anything?”

 

“It looks just right,” Hank said.

 

Evan sat down and Hank started shuffling the cards. By the end of the second hand, Evan got Hank to laugh for the first time in weeks.

 

-fin


End file.
